


Hearts on Our Sleeves

by seijuurou



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Jaemin's a panicked gay, M/M, Na Jaemin-centric, Renjun pls wear the bracelet again before we all die thanks, Teen Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, We Go Up is the most beautiful and heart breaking era ok, Young Love, don't touch me, it's almost 5am send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijuurou/pseuds/seijuurou
Summary: So maybe Jaemin thinks too much and what he thinks either breaks his heart or mends it back.But Renjun’s eyes are his sleeves, where he puts his heart and his words on. Like a piece of the night sky that holds the stars when they’re glinting under the light.





	Hearts on Our Sleeves

Contrary to popular belief, Jaemin doesn’t smile that much.

Not really, off-stage or off-camera. It’s been less than a year, but the memory still hangs and holds tight, bright and clear in his mind. Endless nights staring up at white-washed ceiling, the soft yet firm hold of mom’s hands on his, the cold sting of needle puncturing through his skin…waiting in vain to for the ache on his back to soothe and not knowing when it would come, if it would ever come.  


There’s a gap, between the time he was gone and the songs he’s missed and the new memories they’ve made. The boys never made a big deal out of it, and he caught up quickly enough to be able to perform those songs along with them, the knot in his chest loosening at the chance. But there’s records he didn’t join, interviews he didn’t attend, and a new ache at his waist that stings whenever he pushes forward just a little bit too hard. 

Mark-hyung’s been keeping a close eye on him, with a subtlety he thinks he has that Jaemin pretends not to notice. Jeno’s repeatedly talked to him about it. If it ever hurts again and all, and Jaemin just nods and smiles through a burning waist. Chenle and Jisung sometimes pick his bag up or fetch him a bottle of water randomly. Haechan kinda stops being such a teasing prick. And Renjun is just…Jaemin is honestly just not sure.  
.  
.  
.  


He remembers. The first couple of months in therapy, with no one sliding past the door of his hospital room besides his parents and the nurses. He thought he could be mad, but he’s just mostly empty and partly grateful. He wanted to see them, but he’d rather nobody ever witnessed him curling up in the hospital bed and choking back tears into his pillows. The last time Jeno called him they were practicing new choreo for their upcoming comeback, first single album and all, and Jaemin laughed with his hands fisted in the blanket. It hurt, but it didn’t matter. President Soo-Man had put his foot down. Popular SM Rookie or not, he was without a group until his herniated disc can stop being a prickling bastard. 

The boys dropped by from time to time, hauling training bags and flowers and loud mouths echoing down the hospital hallway. Renjun didn’t visit often, maybe three, four times with the members and once with only Jeno, but he brought food everytime.  


It was a week before his official release, and in order for it to happen he’d need an epidural. The boys frowned through the phone, but Manager-hyung shuts them up and chases them away before he can explain. Not that it would change anything. Ari told him to be strong, and he can only reply in a dull. The boys’ chattering sounded so faraway through the line, and he tried not to grit his teeth.  


When he woke up from a nap later, there were a few text messages. Chenle and Jisung gave him cheers with tacky emoticons, Donghyuck left a loud voicemail with Mark and the hyungs complaining and wishing him the best in the background, Jeno said he passed by earlier but he was sleeping so he didn’t stay. 

And when Jaemin sent back all the replies and put his phone back to the desk, he finally noticed a black box with a sticky note on it, a tiny drawing of Moomin grinning at the corner. Jaemin sucked in a tight breath in surprise, eyes feeling musty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it when Dr. Kim shuffled into his room.

When cold fingers pressed against his back and sharp metal pierced through his skin, he thinks of Renjun glancing up at him, bony wrist in his grip, the curved arch at the right corner of his lips when he smiles. 

“That’s right,” Dr. Kim murmurs, and it feels so distant he almost misses it. “Just take a breath. Slowly.”

And Jaemin shuts the images away – holds himself still – heart beats furiously in his chest.  
.  
.  
.  


SM announces Mark’s departure and the debut of NCT China on a cold winter day. It’s the last few days of the year, and Jaemin’s just barely started to feel comfortable in the dorm again when they were summoned to the CEO’s office.

“I – Really?” Mark asked, eyes as wide as saucers. Jaemin almost wanted to scoff, of course they would just drop this kind of bomb without telling the older boy firsthand. He wished he could be more surprised, but he’s always doubted the fans’ demands would be taken into hard consideration by SM.

“Yes.” Mrs. Park, the music director smiled kindly at them. “This will be your last Dream comeback, Minhyung-shi.” 

The rest of the discussion died in his ears, but not before Jaemin could quickly scan past a few profile pictures tampered on the board at the corner, with red flags tagged under them, and square, graphic letters attached. Letters that he’d somehow gotten a little bit familiar with. 

“Oh, also, Chenle and Renjun, stay here with us for a little while more if you may.”

Soo-man simply nodded at their wide-eyed faces, before standing up and exiting the room. The small slit of the elevator door left wisps of wind trailing in, raising goosebumps through his loose sweater sleeves. And if the CEO’s eyes lingered on him just a little bit longer than the rest, Jaemin thinks he did a good job hiding the small wince he made in his greeting bow.  
.  
.  
.  


Renjun came to his room later that day, sweat beads at his hairline and cheeks flushing pink. There’s a white towel draped around his neck, and Jaemin distinctly remembers Jeno’s been dragging the older boy to be his new gym buddy, since he’s too preoccupied walloping in his own room these days. He tries not to think of the reason why.

“Hey. What’s up?”

Renjun raises a brow at him, leaning against the doorway. “Nothing much. You good?”

“Yeah, of course,” he looks away, and tries to hide it by scooching inside to make room. “Come on in.”

“I’m taking a shower now,” the older shook his head. “Just wanna check up on you is all.”

“You sound like Mark-hyung. Getting leader-like already I see?”

He chuckles, but the sound only comes out dry, and Jaemin snaps his head up immediately in fear of blurting out something wrong. But Renjun only blinks at him, and tilts his head, mouth curving upward into that half-smile he would often make.  


“Come eat with me after I’m done. I made some food.” 

And he closes the door, the tiniest hint of his scent leaving Jaemin breathless and silent.  
.  
.  
.  


Renjun is kind of a talkative boy, not that anybody would ever realize it if they got to meet him when he first stepped into SM. And Jaemin remembers that day, remembers it better than he expects himself to. He doesn’t know what came over him, he was never really the friendly type. But Renjun was skinny, and delicate, and shy and only talked when someone talked first, which somehow made the little boy in him push forward. He never realized what kind of impact he took until the Arena Homme interview, until Renjun poking his head into his single room and hanging around becomes an almost daily occurrence. 

“So..best impression, huh?”

He says casually, as Renjun is chilling on the other side of his bed, occasionally knocking his socks clad feet to Jaemin’s left elbow. The older boy looks up, not even a tiniest hint of surprise on his face like he knew Jaemin would bring it up. (And of course he will. He always will.)

“Yeah, you were always really good to me,” he shrugs, dropping the hands holding his phone into his lap. “It was nice of you.”

Jaemin has to pause at that. He never really notices it. But then as he watches Renjun folds himself in his bed, sitting on his blanket, in his room – newly bleached blond strands falling into his dark eyes, he finally sees why. 

“It was really nice,” Renjun repeats, looking down at his phone. And Jaemin doesn’t bring it up again.  
.  
.  
.  


They wrapped up filming in half a day. It’s blazing hot under the venue, air musty and damp around them from the car-washing scene. All the boys are a sopping wet mess, flat hair and water dripping down their noses when they smile. Jaemin tries to dry his hair with a thin towel, frowning when the water made his dark liner smear onto his eyes. He laughs when Jisung zooms past with Chenle following up close, holding up a sponge, and accidentally bumps into cold bare skin.

“Oh – ” he turns, and looks down. 

“Brats,” Renjun mutters, before looking up at him. Wet bangs flopping like a curtain down his dark eyes. “You okay?”

“Yea,” he blinks. “Why?”

The older boy gives him a look, and Jaemin remembers. Jeno almost accidentally knocked his face off with the water hose just moments ago. The guy really is too strong for his own good sometimes. “Yea, ‘course. That idiot missed.” 

Renjun stared up at him, before chuckling and turning away. Of course he wouldn’t know, Jeno and Jaemin’s another kind of relationship. He wants to protect Jeno most of the times, kinda wants to strangle him sometimes, they aren’t afraid to be physical with each other, and Jaemin likes his boring, talking punching bag the way he is. 

He can see the difference too. Jeno doesn’t punch Renjun in the arm like he does with him, or squares up at him for fun, it’s kinda the other way around more. Jaemin can tell it’s the same for all the other boys in their group. And it doesn’t matter how many times Renjun puts them in a chokehold, yells at them and smacks them, no one ever retaliates. Chenle called him Chinaware once, and it sticks ever since. Renjun, wry bone jutting out below his neck and floppy golden bangs, dark eyes slit at the edge. 

“I guess this is the last time huh,” he grins, and Jaemin blinks out of his trance. “All of us together like this.”

“Ah – ” Jaemin says, and stops. Right. There’s Mark’s ‘graduation’, and NCT 116. Chenle and Renjun are practically leaving the country soon now. He wonders how it suddenly feels like a gum is stuck down his throat. “I guess so.”  


“Well, I hope nothing will change.”

“Yea,” he murmurs, swallowing past the lump inside and looks forward. Mark is grinning at Jisung and Chenle jumping around while Donghyuck and Jeno look like they’re trying to compete who can squeeze out more water from the sponges and dry them out faster.  
There’s a sigh in the older’s voice, a silent hope, maybe a promise, Jaemin isn’t sure. But when he looks at Renjun, dark eyed and curved mouth, knowing he can stay exactly where they are right now and never wanting to leave, he thinks he can understand.

“Nothing will change.”  
.  
.  
.  


The news spread like wildfire, until that even other fandoms have started voicing their support for the comeback this time. Jaemin is eternally grateful, and tries to show it whenever and wherever he can. He draws hearts, trains thrice as hard, says thank you’s, I love you’s, and interacts with the fans as closely as possible. Just the fact that there were people waiting for his long lost recovery was enough to urge his need to be the better, the truly deserving one of their time and help. When Jisung cries seeing their winning results, half-finished makeup running down his face, Jaemin can only squeeze the boy into his arms, warmed and forever thankful for everything and everyone.  


The moment is interrupted by the sound of camera being snapped, and Jaemin opened his eyes to see Renjun, swaddled in his performing uniform, looking down at his phone with a bright grin.

“That’s just mean,” he comments dryly.

“What? You guys saw my voice cracking on national tv. This is nothing,” the blond’s voice is teasing, but Jaemin can the the mist in his eyes. “The fans will love this.”

“Are you finally writing a tweet? Oh my God, after 84 years – ”

“Shut up,” but then,“The photos look cute anyways…”

“What was that?”

A pause. And suddenly, Renjun blinks up at him. Jaemin stares back, knowing exactly what he’d get once the other boy’s mouth opened, ready to fire another insulting comeback. They don’t do this often, throwing banter at each other, and it throws his insides to a loop everytime Renjun finally has enough and stomps away like a little kid. 

But then the blond just snaps his lips together, and crinkles his eyes up at him.

“I said you two look cute.”

And he leaves to Ari, not even caring to turn around, where Jaemin can only blink after his retreating back, a pale pink dusting at his cheekbones.  
.  
.  
.  


He doesn’t ask about the bracelets.

The whole thing was kind of random, truly so. Jaemin wasn’t sure how he came up with the idea, just that while he was mindlessly scrolling through some online shopping sites, the wrist cuffs caught his eyes. They were a simple pair, with matching lustrous colors and a pair of watches to come with them. The price wasn’t a problem, especially with their kind of salary. He took a few moments to admire the pictures, before softly nudging Renjun – who was as usual seated right opposite of him in his bed.

“What do you think?”

“Hmmm?” the boy blinked at the phone screen in his face, before tilting up to pass him a smirk. “Yeah they’re nice. For a girl?”

“No,”

Jaemin chuckles, bringing the phone back to him. They are really pretty, in a simple, elegant way, kinda remind him of Renjun, and they only come in pairs. Maybe – 

“For us.”

It took a few moments, until Jaemin finally realized the sudden odd atmosphere inside the room. He looked up to meet with Renjun’s dark orbs, huge and glinting under the lamp light.

“Why?”

“For memories’ sake I guess,” his throat suddenly feels tight, but he shrugs anyways. “Consider it a birthday present.”

“It’s not coming in two months,” it’s a month and a half, Jaemin’s already counted, but he lets it slide. Renjun’s eyebrows are passing his bangs and coming ridiculously close to his hairline already. “And why not…shoes?”

As much as he adores and loves that little hellion – “Jisung would never wear this kind of stuff with me.”  


“And you think I would?”

Jaemin doesn’t know where he found the courage, but when he looks up and stares straight back to the older’s face, breath caught in his throat, Renjun’s eyes are his sleeves, where he puts his heart and his words on. Like a piece of the night sky that holds the stars when they’re glinting under the light like this. The words untangle slowly, and he swallows past the lump in his throat.  


“I don’t know. Would you?”

It was only a few seconds, even if it felt like a lifetime just passed. But then Renjun leaned back in his bed, and passed him a grin, pearly white canines gleaming in the dark that left Jaemin breathless. He nodded at the phone in Jaemin’s hand before looking down at his own cell again. 

“Guess I’m getting an early birthday wish then.”  
.  
.  
.  


The Dreamies are asked to do a quick Q&A as pairs of two, where they think of a few questions about their partner and who’d get more answers wins. Jaemin fully expected himself to be paired up with Jeno, knowing the fans’ most popular shipping preference, so when both of his and Renjun’s names are called, it takes a while for the info to sink in. 

“Ari-hyung’s suggestion. Figured it’ll leave more interesting answers,” Jeno shrugs, before nudging him lightly on the arm, a dirty smirk on his face. “Considering the time you guys spend alone in your room and all.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes and pushes his friend away, but it doesn’t stop his heart from thudding fast when the staff noona hands him some note papers and a pen. He looks up in time to see someone doing the same to Renjun, and the older finally glances back at him. The small smile he sends the latter is more awkward and forced than he’d preferred, but he shakes the feeling away.

“Try not to be too descriptive,” Jeno hollers in his ears when he walks past. “Most of us are still single here.”

Jaemin finally decides enough is enough, and lands the bigger guy a hard knock to his bicep. As Jeno howls and rubs his arm in annoyance, he snickers and sits down, holding the pen tight in his grip. 

If his heart hammers loudly as he scribbles out the words, nobody has to know.  
.  
.  
.  


He’s nervous after the filming ends, but luckily nobody notices. Chenle’s still mostly baffled at Renjun’s choice of songs when he tried out for SM’s casting, which really did Jaemin no justice because not even Chenle knew, so the scoreboard is stupid, but whatever. He just hopes he didn’t have anything too revealing in the questions or answers. Their few moments of privacy are too precious to be out and about.  


His next turn is with Jeno, which, ah, makes sense. The trio. The biggest flirt so he gets two rounds. Donghyuck’s talked about this before, “I’m not a flirt,” he would deny.

“I just say what’s on my mind.”

The side-eyes and annoyed huffs he’d always get back made him shut up indefinitely. So maybe he thinks too much and what he thinks either breaks his heart or mends it back. He’s been through this before. He’s used to it. He tries not to get it into his head and it works, most of the times. 

They leave back to the dressing room to return their outfits and take off the makeup, and he’s seated right next to Renjun. The older is twiddling on his phone while Jiyeon-noona wipes his bb cream off with a makeup remover pad, and passes him a smile when he notices Jaemin looking through the mirror.

“How was the shoot?”

“It was alright,” he shrugs. “The usual.”

“Ahh of course. The usual stuff for you.”

The teasing sounds stranger than he’s used to, and Jaemin frowns at the boy through the mirror.

“What do you mean?”

Renjun blinks, slowly, and looks up from his phone. His eyeliner is a bit smudged at the edge, making tiny dark streaks down his pale cheekbones, but the stare he sends Jaemin is still enough to make the younger’s breath caught in his throat. 

“You know what I mean.”

He does. And that’s when it hits him.

But then Renjun doesn’t say anything more and turns down to his phone screen, seemingly ending their discussion. The words were clawing at his throat, but Jaemin keeps his mouth tight. He stares at the older boy’s blond head through the mirror, and tries his best to calm down the raging beating of his heart.

Jaemin finally understands, and it’s so, so embarrassing.

He doesn’t want Renjun to think he’s just a stupid flirt.

He is so, so screwed.  
.  
.  
.  


“Hypothetically, can you live in denial for the rest of your life?”

Donghyuck stops staring at the TV screen, and turns to him with a strange look.

“What?”

It’s one of the rare days he and Mark are staying at the dorm. Jisung is busy filming for his dancing show, Chenle staying with his family in their house, and Renjun picking up his parents at the airport who are coming to visit again. The Canadian boy was snoring peacefully in his bed when Jaemin tried to peek into his room, so it’s just him and the brunette having lunch in their living room.  


The smaller boy chews his rice slowly as he contemplates his question, colorful streaks in his hair falling to his eyes as he tilts his head in thought. Jaemin feels regret immediately as he stares down at his rice bowl. He doesn’t know what came over him to blurt out those words. He doesn’t know what comes over him these days, and it’s driving him to an edge he’s not willing to cross. Maybe not just yet.  


“I don’t know,” his friend finally says, shrugging. “Maybe. Why?”

Donghyuck is annoyingly perspective when he shouldn’t be, and Jaemin bites down on his chopsticks and makes for a nonchalant shrug.  


“Nothing. Just a weird thought.”

He can feel the latter’s stare boring into his head, but Jaemin doesn’t balk and focuses on picking up a piece of kimchi instead. But then Donghyuck just returns to more chewing, and slumps back into the couch with a thump.

“The company is not that strict, you know.”

Jaemin blanches. “What?”

“I’m just saying. You always overthink stuff too much.” He says, and wrinkles his nose. “Actually, all of you overthink stuff too much. Yeah, things are kinda shit ‘cause we’re in this industry.”

The food is suddenly harder to swallow, but Jaemin gulps everything down slowly. He’s too terrified to return his friend’s stare, but he knows the other understands. 

“Cut the crap dude. We’ve known each other for what, ten years – ”

“Five…”

“What I’m saying,” the smaller glares, and thumps him in the bicep. “is that we’re here now, and things change all the time. And yeah, everything is gonna be different soon.”

He puts down his bowl and chopsticks and fixes back his hair, which is peeking through his Sinner’s hoodie. He wears the thing all the time, and it warms Jaemin’s heart everytime he sees it, even though he doesn’t really know how to show it often. But Donghyuck knows, he knows a lot more than he passes on his carefree nature. He sneaks a quick glance towards Mark’s room, and Jaemin thinks he finally knows, too.  


The grin the smaller boy gives him is so soft and bright, and Jaemin can’t help but smiling back at his friend.  


“But you have now, so make the most out of it.”  
.  
.  
.  


It’s a while before he’d get to see Renjun again, which is understandable. The older boy mostly spends his stay at the hotel along with his parents, so they usually don’t see him until they leave. They’ve all met his family before, when they came by to visit the Dreamies’ dorm, and Renjun’s mom never stops cooing whenever she sees him especially.

“Injunnie’s a bit stubborn when it comes to making friends,” she’s told him once, not minding the whine from afar she gets from the addressed boy. “He’s lucky to have such a sweet boy like you helping.” 

The elder woman would say, literally a head shorter than her own son, but Jaemin can clearly see where Renjun gets the smile that’s bigger than life from.

“Keep him around, won't you dear?”

And she winks at him, before trotting forward to her husband and son again, never looking back to where Jaemin silently stands, burning up red to even the tips of his ears.  
.  
.  
.  


“Yeoboseyo?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“I know Jaemin,” Renjun says, exasperated, but Jaemin can just tell his mouth is curved up at the tone of his voice. “What’s up?”  


"What? You don't miss me?" the usual teasing words blurt out before he can help it, and Jaemin has to internally fight back the cringe. If this keeps going he might as well just be digging his own grave.

"Jaemin - "

“Okay okay. Nothing much. What are you doing?”

“Ha? Oh, just having lunch with my parents right now. Remember that BBQ restaurant we went to last month, I took them there.”

“Nice. I liked that place too.”

“Uh huh…”

There’s a pause, and Jaemin almost wants to roll his eyes because he knows Renjun’s doing that stupid thing again, dragging out his words to urge him going. His stomach feels funny and he’s kind of halfway between throwing up and dropping this call. But Donghyuck’s already said that shit and he could not waste all those minutes staring blankly at the wall of his room for nothing.

“I just have something I wanna tell you when you get back. That’s all.”

There’s another small pause. Jaemin can hear the bustling of the restaurant in the background, although he’s pretty sure nothing can drown out the harsh beating in his ribcage right then.

“You can’t tell me here? Right now?” Renjun finally says, voice strangely quiet despite the noises around him.

“No,” he mutters to the speaker, staring at his pillows. “It’s important.”

“…Is it a new unit? Or another new member?”

“Injun – ”  


“Okay okay,” the older says, and chuckles. The sound deep and reverberating through the line. “I’ll be back soon to hear it then.”

“Okay.”

Jaemin whispers, and unties the hold on his blanket. He doesn’t remember time running this slow, but then he barely remembers anything else besides Renjun’s definite smile on the other side of the phone. 

“Oh, and my parents say hi.”

He can hear Renjun’s mom bustling something cheery in the background, and Jaemin smiles into the speaker. 

“Tell them I say hi too, and take care.”

“Arraso arraso. I’ll see you later then.”

“Ne, see you.”

“Ah wait, Jaemin.”

“Hnmm?”

“I missed you too.”

.  
.  
.  


They’re finally back to their hideout. Ever since they moved dorm and the older got his own room, Renjun’s been decorating the small space with scented candles and fruit peels. His bedroom smells like a whole fruit basket and Jaemin’s nose always itches now. He wonders what his old room used to smell like, probably sweat and deodorant. His new space probably still does, Jisung isn’t exactly the cleanest among them either. The maknae always scrunches his nose up at Renjun’s “girly” habits, but that doesn’t stop him from stealing a candle from time to time – the little brat that he is, but Renjun doesn’t bat an eye and lets him anyways.

“You’re gonna set us on fire one of these days.”

“Hush.”

The blond mumbles, rolling his eyes as he lights up another candle and places it on the stand next to his bed. He doesn’t turn the lights on when it’s dark in his room, even though all the candles are more than enough to make up for it. Jaemin’s still partly grateful. His burning face is probably easier to hide under the orange – yellow lights anyways.

“So,” Renjun starts, softly wiggling around to get comfy under his blanket – the one that they’re sharing, facing each other on the bed again. Jaemin can feel the boy’s socks clad feet knocking to his right elbow. “What’s up?”

There he goes. He wants to go. He wants to flip the blanket and stomps away and walks until he reaches Japan and start an entirely new life. Jaemin wants to pull at his hair and rip his heart out of his ribcage. How the fuck was he supposed to do this? This isn’t right. This is their life. Their careers. Their company. He doesn’t even know if Renjun even remotely feels an ounce of what he’s been feeling. This is so, so fucking stupid and why did he even manage to get himself here? 

“Jaemin?”

“You said you missed me,” he finally said, staring stubbornly at the blond bangs swept across the older boy’s eyebrows. “Why?”

“Why?” Renjun blinks, and stares back at him. “because maybe I did?”

“But why?” he insists. “You were hanging out with your family and it’s only for two days while we’ve been together for years. How could you still miss me…?” God where the hell is Jeno to shut him up when he needs him.

“Tell me if I’m wrong and I’ll never speak of it ever again…but – ” he pauses, chest bursting and words clogged at his throat, but he pushes on. “Do you…feel anything for me?”

Renjun’s eyes are huge and ethereally dark under the candle light. His mouth hangs open, lips parted but no words come out and Jaemin already feels like punching something. 

“Because I feel pretty fucking stupid when I’m with you, Injun.” He’s blabbering now. There’s a dark shadow between Renjun’s eyebrows that he’s focusing extremely hard on, and he tries to narrow his gaze down to meet the boy’s eyes, tries to be as sincerest as he can be. “Because I always find myself just looking at you, reading everything about you, always finding you at the corner of my eyes. And my guts feel funny all the fucking time and my mind just keeps thinking about you smiling and you leaving soon…,” 

“And I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers – coughs, “I don’t want you to leave without knowing this –” 

He leans back to the wall at the end of the bed, heart strumming so loud in his chest he can feel it at his temples. He wants to close his eyes and never wakes up again. His whole heart is on his lips and he sucks it in, trying to focus his hazy gaze until he can finally look back at the other boy straight in the eye.

“I don’t want you to leave without knowing how much you mean to me.”

He says, and finally looks down. His hands look gross and sweaty and his breathing is uneven. His whole body feels like it’s been set aflamed but he can’t afford to look up, to see what he’s too terrified to face.

It feels like a lifetime, but eventually the sound of a cupboard springing open caught his focus. Jaemin looks up to see Renjun quietly pulling something out from the cupboard, and feels his heart stop when he finally recognizes the dark velvet box in the boy’s hands.  


“You know, I hated wearing this for a while,” Renjun finally says, slowly, as he opens the box and picks up the wrist cuff. The metal glints prettily under the candle light. 

“I knew it was just an anniversary kinda gift, but I didn’t like wearing it,” he mumbles, as he uses his other hand to slip the bracelet on, right back to the spot that’s been empty for so long Jaemin's almost never looked at it again. “And then I was so annoyed at how I kept thinking that way, and I finally realized why.”

And for the first time since the day they met, Renjun tugs down his blanket and reaches over until he can hold Jaemin’s hand that was trembling in his lap. Until the wrist cuff is the only thing in his view again. 

“I didn’t want us to wear these just for memories’ sake. I wanted us to wear them for what we are.” 

Jaemin couldn’t believe his eyes. The Daniel Wellington. It’s finally on Renjun’s wrist again, circling the hand that’s gripping his. Everything’s suddenly turned out too good to be real he thinks he might open his eyes and it'll all disappear again. His heart is stuck in his throat and his lips are trembling, but when he finally looks up and into Renjun’s eyes, his soft smile the most gorgeous thing Jaemin’s ever laid eyes on, he finds his voice again.

“So will you then? Be a couple with me?”

For a moment, Renjun simply grins, mouth curving up into that half smile Jaemin’s always loved. But then he leans closer, and before Jaemin can register there’s a warm hand on the side of his jaw and Renjun’s lips are on his and gently kissing him. Just like how he’d wanted to do since that night when he bought those bracelets.  


It’s brief and chaste, barely lasting half a minute. But when Renjun pulls away and slowly opening his eyes, Jaemin finds himself staring again, breathless and hopelessly, definitely in love.

Renjun doesn’t say anything more, but Jaemin knows it’s completely fine, because when he leans their foreheads together and feels Renjun’s warm palms against his nape, deep laughter soft and thundering in his ears, it’s all the answers he ever needs.  
.  
.  
.  


“You need to control yourself man,”

Donghyuck complains, loudly, as they’re sitting in the van on the way back to their dorm. It’s the first day of the Dream Show and they have finally managed to finish everything and leave with a bang. There’s sweatbeads at their temples and smudged makeup on their faces but everyone can just tell they’re glowing. Jaemin can feel his head buzz with happiness and pride and he knows it’s not only because all of them are together in this moment.

“Yeah, honestly. Right in front of our fans and our single eyes?”

Jeno hollers in his seat, shaking his head but his eyes are just literal crescents. Mark is blushing furiously as he tries hard to pretend to focus on his phone while Jisung just looks like he wants to change units again.

“What??!! What exactly did I miss again?”

Chenle whines cutely, the wrinkle on his left cheekbone crinkling as he stares at the rest of them. Renjun smacks his arm half-heartedly, but it doesn’t stop the pink spot on his cheek from turning beet red and Jaemin just wants to cup his face and squish his mouth to the older's face again. The same way he’s done when they were both on that stage.

“It was the single cutest and most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Donghyuck would tell everyone else later on, but with all of them here together, and the warm feeling of Renjun’s hand in his as they come home, the glint of their wrist cuffs peeking through his long sleeve, Jaemin can ask for nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> get it? sleeves? bc that's where they hide their wrist cuffs. 
> 
> i'm on twitter too |ʘ‿ʘ)╯ @godnjm


End file.
